Profit and Loss 5 of 52
by Echowarrior
Summary: The Autobots and Decepticons battle to retrieve a MiniCon pod, freeing a potential threat to both sides in the bargain...
1. Chapter 1

Profit and Loss

A Transformers: Armada Story

By William Rendfeld

The Earth, a shimmering sphere in the void of space. A shining blue world, teaming with life and energy. Unbeknownst to the majority of its inhabitants, the human race, they are no longer alone. The Transformers have arrived.

* * *

"Y'know Dave, I've been thinking..."

"Oh, don't start with me, Aaron."

"No no, seriously, try to follow me here," Aaron continued. "Y'know that chopper that went around Portland a couple weeks back, scared a bunch of people, chased an SUV out of town? Who else would have something like that?"

"The military would not waste its time scaring the crap out of people, Aaron," Dave noted. "It's got bigger things to do, you know that."

"Still, it could've done it," Aaron argued.

"You and your wild theories," Dave replied. "Look, as long as we're working on this old base, so long as there are tanks and missiles and large guns capable of blowing anyone or anything to pieces, I say you keep your theories to yourself and just do the job, okay?"

"Okay, but I'm saying..." Aaron continued as he flipped on the large drilling truck, tearing through the ground before Dave and himself. After a few seconds, however, the drill began to screech loudly, as if it were connecting with something other than the Earth. "Whoa. That's weird."

Dave sighed. "Better get the foreman."

* * *

Thrust winced slightly as he asked, "How long is this supposed to take, anyway?"

"It will be taken care of much faster if you stop asking me about it," Starscream reprimanded as he continued work on a replacement arm for Thrust.

In their previous battle with the Autobots, Thrust had taken on heavy damage during his brief exchange with the young Autobot soldier Hot Shot. Now, Starscream was diligently working upon a suitable replacement for a damaged limb.

"There," he noted silently, fitting the last connection in. "How does it feel?"

Thrust lightly flexed his new arm, and noted, "Better."

"It's about eight percent less powerful than your previous arm unit, but there are a few cosmetic differences that I think you'll enjoy," Starscream noted as Thrust flexed his new fingers.

"Yes, this is much better," Thrust said approvingly. "And my other arm?"

"Almost finished," Starscream replied. "I just need to..."

Starscream was interrupted by a loud klaxon. He quickly rushed to a monitor and began typing in commands as Thrust asked, "What is it? Are we under attack?"

"No, it's something else," Starscream explained as a readout appeared. "A Mini-Con stasis unit is online on Earth."

"Ah, good news then," Thrust noted. "Megatron will be pleased."

"Yes, he will," Starscream mumbled, slightly distracted.

* * *

"...Now based on modern historical records, we've been able to determine that Greek culture first began to arise on the island of Crete around 3000 BC with the founding of the Minoan civilization, named for the mythical King Minos," Diana recounted as she jotted down notes on the chalkboard. "Beyond the apparent dates of settlement and city construction, however, all we know of the Minoans is financial transactions and..."

Diana turned around briefly to look over her class. Much to her chagrin, most of her students were beginning to nod off or start to lose attention; Alexis was one of the few exceptions.

Grabbing a rather large book off her desk, Diana continued, "...that sometime around 2000 BC a marauding horde of Zakus showed up and destroyed every last trace of civilization with a loud 'boom'!" She punctuated her word by slamming the book down onto the desk, instantly regaining most of the class's attention. "Glad to see everyone's paying attention." With a quick glance towards the clock, she noted, "As you all know, in a few weeks we'll be taking a class field trip. I'll need ten dollars from each of you by the end of next week; otherwise you won't be able to come."

"Miss Masters?" Billy asked as he raised his hand. "What exactly does a car race have to do with some old culture that died out thousands of years ago?"

"With the Greeks? Nothing," Diana answered. "By the time the field trip comes, we'll be dealing with the Romans. By then it'll have something to do with it." The bell loudly chimed as Diana declared, "Class dismissed!"

As the rest of the class began cycling out of the room, Diana walked over to Alexis and her two friends, Rad and Carlos, and said, "I hope you three didn't find the lecture too boring."

"Oh no, we were fine," Carlos noted. "So, on this trip..."

"Don't even think it, kid," Diana replied. "Optimus and the others are already busy enough as it is. And you three'd be better off not bringing the High Wire and her team with us. We've already got enough problems with this trip."

* * *

"The pod itself is situated in a desert area; low ground, very easily reached, about seven clicks away from here," Red Alert recounted to his commander. "The major problem is that it's situated at a human military base."

"Which means that it's a high activity area," Optimus Prime noted as he looked over the satellite feed. "Is there any good news?"

"Yes, thankfully," Red continued. "The base is going to be expanded shortly. We might be able to sneak Scavenger and Smokescreen onto the site, but it'll be extremely tricky."

"Yes, but we don't have much choice," Optimus noted. "Have they been briefed?"

"They're just waiting for your approval to head out," Red replied.

Optimus considered his options for a moment, then turned to Red and said, "Tell them to roll out."

* * *

"So we pulled the drill out, and found this thing at the end of the tunnel," Aaron explained. "It's some strange metal, can't easily identify it."

"Pretty damn dense stuff," Dave noted. "Like this thing was poured or something."

The foreman silently looked over the large patch of metal that had been uncovered. "Better get the bigger equipment out, boys. This thing looks like it could be seriously important."

As the three construction workers silently exited the makeshift tunnel, a large green bulldozer and orange utility truck rolled onto the site, almost unbeknownst to those present, who were more concerned with the unusual thing found underground. Also unbeknownst to those present, a small orange bird-like robot fluttered out of the tunnel towards a few of the more common construction vehicles...

* * *

"The base itself, despite being old and undergoing renovation, is well protected by a small ground unit," Starscream noted as he briefed his commander, Megatron, on the human military base's defenses. "Several large artillery units are stationed on or around the base, most ready for combat at any time."

"Thus a frontal assault would only cause high amounts of damage and expenditure of Energon that we don't really have," Megatron mused. "Very well. What do you suggest, Starscream?"

"A subtle approach," Starscream recommended. "Three of us, aided by our Mini-Cons, can provide fire from several different directions at maximum weapons range, dividing the human forces and keeping the majority of their attention away from the base. The two remaining Decepticons can enter the compound, locate the Mini-Cons, and quickly make our escape."

Megatron considered the plan before him, and decided, "An intriguing proposition. Very well, Starscream; you and Cyclonus shall enter the compound, while the rest of us provide cover." The massive Decepticon tyrant rose from his throne and walked to the door as he continued, "But don't consider this anything else, Starscream. I expect results, not excuses."

"Results, yes," Starscream noted as he followed his leader out of the room. "Results..."

* * *

As the gathered humans began digging through the rock, attempting gain specifics on what they had just discovered, a red bar of light pierced the darkness inside the makeshift tunnel, accompanied by a pair of yellow lights. The twin sources of light receded into the tunnel, returning to the small stasis unit uncovered by the human workers.

"Report?" Dualor asked from within the stasis unit as Longarm and Drill Bit re-entered the pod.

"We're situated in what looks like a human military outpost, undergoing renovation and expansion," Longarm replied. "That explains the unusual choice in alternate modes at least."

"I read about fifty or so human life signs in the immediate area," Drill Bit noted. "Whole bunch of vehicles, but nothing we can't get past with a little muscle."

"Sounds simple enough," Dualor noted.

"Now hold it one minute!" another Mini-Con, Refute, quickly spoke up. "The humans are innocents here. If we have to fight our way out, then fine, but we're minimizing casualties. On both sides."

"We have concerns beyond casualties, Refute," Dualor noted. "Our brethren are scattered across the planet. If these humans capture us, what will that mean for them?"

"I'm not saying they aren't important, Dualor," Refute argued. "I'm just saying that we shouldn't go ripping this place apart just to get away from people who could potentially help us."

"He has a good point, Dualor," Longarm replied. "A stealthy escape, if possible, is the best option we have. The less we're seen, the smaller our chances of capture."

Dualor looked to the last two occupants of the stasis unit, Buzzsaw and Liftor, as the latter of the two spoke up, "I'm with Longarm and Refute. The less chance of being seen the better."

Dualor grimaced, then relented, "Very well. We'll do our best to sneak out of the base, without harming any humans. Now, we'll have to get..."

Dualor was interrupted as the familiar roar of explosions tore through the air, catching their attention.

"Looks like those precious fleshlings aren't quite so innocent," Drill Bit noted, barely disguising his glee at the prospect of a fight.

"No, this is something else," Refute realized, recognizing the explosions. "Decepticons!"

* * *

Outside, the human construction workers panicked a bit as artillery fire rained down upon the base, destroying vehicles left and right and causing those present to scatter. As human tanks turned their attention to the origin of the attack, a large red and silver jet and a blue and off-white helicopter arrived near the makeshift hole, shifting into a pair of large, familiar Decepticons.

"Looks like you're plan's working, Starscream," Cyclonus noted with a chuckle. "Not bad."

"Congratulate me once we're out of danger," Starscream chided the smaller Decepticon. "The stasis unit's within that range. Send Crumplezone in, and quickly."

"Don't have to tell me twice," the Mini-Con connected to Cyclonus's arm replied as he separated from his partner, transforming to robot mode and rushing into the man-made tunnel.

"Well, we're in the clear now," Cyclonus noted cheerfully.

"Not quite yet!" a voice cried out as an orange utility truck slammed into Cyclonus from the side, sending the Decepticon to the ground hard as a large green bulldozer rumbled up and transformed into a humanoid form, a red Autobot emblem proudly displayed upon his chest.

"You honestly think we'd let you get away with this?" Scavenger asked with a smirk as Smokescreen transformed to robot mode to join him.

"Actually, no," Starscream replied, readying his Energon blade. With a smirk of his own, he added, "In fact, I was looking forward to this."

* * *

"What do you mean; the Decepticons and Autobots are right outside?" Refute asked at last.

"I mean they're right outside! Literally!" Crumplezone cried out. "Listen, you guys have to get out of here, now!"

"We aren't going anywhere with the Decepticons," Refute boldly stated, Longarm and Liftor with him. "Starscream can only keep up an act for so long; we'll go with the Autobots, thanks."

"The Autobots may not be able to do much good," Crumplezone exclaimed. "We have to go and we have to go now!"

"We aren't leaving," Refute replied.

"But the-!" Crumplezone pleaded.

"Crumplezone, take Buzzsaw and get out of here," Dualor ordered. "If we aren't with you in a cycle, then beat it."

Crumplezone looked at the Destruction Team leader for a hard second, then slowly nodded and turned around. Buzzsaw, looking at his commander in slight doubt for a second, soon followed.

"Dualor, what are you thinking?" Refute asked at last. "Last I checked, Megatron and his Decepticons were the enemy."

"You don't get it, do you Refute?" Dualor asked. "It's about survival. Not ideals, not who's better than who, but who survives. And I plan on making sure the Mini-Cons survive this war." His twin cannons flipping down underneath his arms, he finished, "Whatever it takes," and fired.

Refute was hit and damaged by twin cannon blasts, while Liftor and Longarm were both knocked back by a second salvo. As the three Mini-Cons fell to the ground Dualor beckoned, "Drill Bit, clean up."

"Got it, boss," Drill Bit chuckled with manic glee as he started up his drill weapon, priming it towards Refute.

* * *

As Dualor walked out of the stasis unit, he could hear the grinding and tearing of metal, mingling with screams of terror. He finally exited to find the battle continuing, Crumplezone and Buzzsaw waiting for him.

"Where are the others?" Buzzsaw asked as he noticed his commander.

"Drill Bit's tying up a loose end or two," Dualor casually replied as a form zipped past them, heading back into the tunnel.

* * *

"You've been hanging around that slagging medic for too long, Longarm," Drill Bit noted as he scraped the badly-damaged Mini-Con off his drill. "Gotten soft on us."

Longarm had jumped in at the last moment, pushed Refute aside mere seconds before Drill Bit's weapon could make contact. He'd paid a high price, however; his left arm was barely hanging from his shoulder, and a good chunk of his torso had been torn out.

"It's every 'bot for themselves in this world," Drill Bit noted with a manic look in his optics. "Should realize that by now."

"Sorry," a voice said as a pair of strong hands took hold of Drill Bit's stubby left arm. "I don't quite see it that way."

Drill Bit soon found himself being thrown out of the cave, tossed out with a mighty heave by Rollbar.

"Slag spouting maniac," Rollbar grumbled under his breath before he turned his attention to the injured Longarm. "Hey doc. You holding up?"

"Barely," Longarm groaned as sparks issued from his chest.

As Liftor and Refute got to their feet, Rollbar gently took the wounded Longarm into his arms. "Rollbar? The others made it?"

"Prime managed to get to us shortly after arriving on Earth," Rollbar explained. "Red's with him. Scavenger and Smokescreen are outside, but we have to make tracks now if we plan on helping Longarm."

"Got it old friend," Refute noted with a smile in his voice.

* * *

"What happened?" Dualor asked as Drill Bit got to his feet.

"Got...sucker-punched," Drill Bit explained.

Meanwhile, Starscream continued to hold Scavenger at bay as Cyclonus grappled with Smokescreen. "Forget the Autobot, Cyclonus! Get the Mini-Cons and go, now!"

Smokescreen looked down to see Crumplezone and the Destruction Team appear in plain view, then cried, "Oh no, you-!" before Cyclonus pushed him away and transformed to vehicle mode.

"Link up!" Cyclonus called out.

Crumplezone shifted around a bit, assuming his form as Cyclonus's secondary cockpit as Dualor, Drill Bit and Buzzsaw locked in on three of Cyclonus's four primary Powerlinx points.

"So much for Autobot fighting abilities!" Cyclonus cackled. He quickly blasted away from the other Transformers and declared, "Adios, losers!"

Smokescreen growled lightly as he got to his feet, his thoughts interrupted as Starscream quietly chided, "Make sure the other Mini-Cons are safe. I'll keep an eye on those three."

"We'll hold you to that," Scavenger declared as Starscream broke off and transformed, flying out and away from the base.

"Scavenger, Smokes, we've got wounded!" Rollbar yelled as he half-carried Longarm out of the tunnel, Refute and Liftor limping after him. "We need to get out of here, now!"

"Right," Scavenger declared, transforming to vehicle mode. "Get Longarm into me and Powerlink. Refute, you and Liftor link with Smokescreen."

As Rollbar carefully draped the semi-conscious Longarm into Scavenger's small driver's compartment, Refute and Liftor both Powerlinked with Smokescreen as he called in, "Smokescreen to _Ark_, we've got wounded! Requesting immediate beam-out, now!"

"Understood," Red Alert's voice replied through the comm.-channel as Rollbar linked up with Scavenger. Within seconds, the six Cybertronians vanished into the night.

* * *

"Three...Mini-Cons...out of six..." Megatron recounted.

Some time had passed since the battle at the military base. The five Decepticons and their Mini-Con contingent, now increased with the recovery of the Destruction Team, had since returned to base. Now, however, the Decepticon tyrant was quickly considering his gains from the battle with Starscream and Cyclonus. The red and silver Seeker was the only one not displaying any measure of relief.

"Light damage to our troops, and minimal resistance from the Autobots during the attack," Megatron continued to recount. "However, we recovered only half of the Mini-Cons from the pod."

"Yeah boss, but one of the ones we didn't get is pretty much scrap, according to Drill Bit," Cyclonus eagerly pointed out. "And there's no chance the Autobots'll be able to repair him."

"A deactivated Mini-Con is a wasted Mini-Con, Cyclonus," Megatron quickly noted. "And I hardly trust the word of Dualor or his associates. They still have a reputation on Cybertron from the First Great War, as you may well recall." He considered his options, then ordered, "Starscream, I want you to devise some way of keeping them under control. I don't care what, but do it. Is that understood?"

"With great clarity, Megatron," Starscream replied, attempting to keep his voice neutral.

"And as for you, Cyclonus," Megatron continued, "keep in mind that if the Autobots do manage to repair that Mini-Con, you will be the one to pay the price for Dualor's stupidity."

"Uhh...right Megatron, sir," Cyclonus accepted, worry clear in his voice.

* * *

Elsewhere, in the _Ark_'s medical bay, Red Alert worked diligently on the heavily-damaged Longarm, numerous status displays and medical screens dotting the wall around him. Watching from an observation room in somber silence was Refute, keeping an eye on his ally with increasing worry in his optics.

The nearby door slid open, and a familiar voice said, "I heard about what happened back there." As Refute turned to face him, Sparkplug continued, "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Refute turned back to face his injured comrade and said, "That doesn't help much, Sparkplug, but thanks anyway." As Sparkplug walked up alongside him, he continued, "That was nearly me down there, y'know? If Longarm hadn't pushed me out of the way, I'd be down there now, torn apart with my spark hanging on by a thread."

"There was nothing you could do, or anyone could do," Sparkplug said, attempting to soothe his friend's spiritual wounds. "And moping around won't help anyone. He's in the best of hands; Red's put back together more 'bots than I could ever hope to keep track of. He'll be okay."

"I hope so," Refute replied. "But even if he does pull through, Drill Bit and Dualor will pay for this."

Sparkplug could easily detect the anger in his comrade's voice. It was more than justified; Longarm was his friend as well, and no Mini-Con should ever have to purposely injure another Mini-Con, or worse, kill them. Still, to have that much anger...

"...They will, Refute," Sparkplug promised, resting a hand on Refute's shoulder. "They will."

The End


	2. Chapter 1 ReEdit

Profit and Loss

A Transformers: Armada Story

By William Rendfeld

"Y'know Dave, I've been thinking..."

"Oh, don't start with me, Aaron."

"No no, seriously, try to follow me here." The shorter, somewhat portly construction worker turned to his friend, rubbing a smudge of dirt from his cheek. "Y'know that chopper that went around Portland a couple weeks back, scared a bunch of people, and chased an SUV out of town? Who else would have something like that?"

The taller and leaner of the two men groaned. "The military would not waste its time scaring the crap out of people. It's got bigger things to do, you know that."

"Still, it could've done it."

The two were among many civilian workers active at Utah's Tooele Army Depot, the main site for munitions storage, testing, maintenance and decommissioning for the United States Army. As a result of recent measures in Congress, the base was undergoing another round of renovation and expanding its already considerable facilities. And in order to build something, you needed to dig a foundation – it was their job to mark boundaries for the new building when the serious work began.

"You and your wild theories." Dave stood up, glad that he'd finished his lunch and downed the last of his coffee. As much as he enjoyed working with Aaron, the man's conspiracy ideas tended to jump through a lot of topics that didn't have much connection. "Look, as long as we're working on this old base, so long as there are tanks and missiles and large guns capable of blowing anyone or anything to pieces, I say you keep your theories to yourself and just do the job, okay?"

"Okay, but I'm just saying..." Aaron packed away what was left of his meal and moved off to start up the trencher. After checking that he was wearing his safety equipment and that there wasn't anything or anyone in the way, he started up the large machine and continued following the guidelines that were set out. When the blades began to screech loudly as if it was connecting with something other than dirt, Aaron immediately yanked the keys out and jumped down to see what the trencher had made contact with. In all honesty, he hoped it was a really hard boulder, not some form of explosive that had been buried years ago and was still live. Brushing aside dirt particles, fingers soon made contact with the object and from what little knowledge he had gained from watching the onsite military personnel handle things-that-explode, this object was definitely _not_ a bomb or missile. "Whoa. That's weird."

His partner came over, noticing the familiar glint of metal and rapped his knuckles against it to confirm for himself before frowning. "Better get the foreman."

A light tingle went over Starscream's body as the lift ascended once more into the _Nemesis_' cargo bay. The old Seeker couldn't help but feel pleased with himself – his solar array was almost finished, and once done, it would provide easy power for himself and his fellow Decepticons. No need to raid human facilities and one less risk to Earth. Granted, the Mini-Cons remained a factor, but they were one that was easily dealt with. "Starscream to Lord Megatron – I've completed the necessary connections to the array. We can begin a test sequence at your leisure."

_:"Acknowledged. Out.":_

That accomplished, Starscream strode out of the cargo bay and down towards another chamber. The hatch slid open before him, and a voice greeted him gruffly. "About slagging time."

While the Mini-Cons had been in self-imposed exile from Cybertron for many vorns, a number of Cybertronians held out the hope of seeing them return, and ships were still constructed with them in mind. Thanks to that, the _Nemesis_ and other modern vessels came equipped with chambers specially-made for Mini-Cons, including small regeneration chambers set within alcoves in the wall. Even to the Mini-Cons themselves, however, the alcoves looked cramped, usually resulting in them keeping to a common area on the chamber floor whenever not in battle or recharging. Unfortunately, there was little more to do than recharge or fight – the status monitors scattered throughout the room had been deactivated on Megatron's orders, thus helping to explain Knock-Out's boredom.

"Sorry, I've been busier than I'd like getting the array in place." Starscream knelt down to address the assembled five Mini-Cons. "Is everyone alright?"

"For the time being, yes." With Leader-1 normally held within Megatron's personal storage unit, it fell to Wreckage to act as their spokesperson. "I assume that once the array is up and running you'll be able to devote more time towards finding the rest of us?"

"That's my plan, yes. Considering the Autobots haven't made any efforts towards finding another pod, however, I suspect they're trying to solve some of their own resource problems – I doubt they're as energon starved as we are, but their supplies are just as finite."

"Speaking of the 'Bots, have you figured out some way of trading word back and forth?" Much of Crumplezone's anxiety had faded, most likely a result of his bonding with Cyclonus. "If you and they are going to be able to coordinate, you're going to need to be able to do so effectively."

"I've been working on that. Laser-guided transmissions may work, but–" He was interrupted as an alarm klaxon rang throughout the ship, and quickly keyed in his communicator. "Starscream to command deck – report."

_:"Sensors have picked up the activation of another Mini-Con escape pod. Report immediately,": _Thrust answered.

"Understood." The Seeker shook his head. "So much for a quiet cycle."

"Based on modern historical research, we've been able to determine that Greek culture first began to arise on the island of Crete around 2700 BC with the founding of the Minoan civilization, named for the mythical King Minos," Diana recounted as she jotted down notes on the chalkboard. She made a quick look back and added, "And no, there wasn't anything like the Minotaur in real life. Beyond the apparent dates of settlement and city construction, all we know of the Minoans is financial transactions and…"

Her gaze returned to her class. Much to her vexation, most of her students were beginning to nod off or start to lose attention; Alexis was one of the few exceptions.

Grabbing a rather large book off her desk, the teacher decided to continue with a different tactic. "...that sometime around 1700 BC, Minoan influence began to decline. No one's quite sure why, but odds are it was either an invasion from Anatolia, part of modern-day Turkey, or tectonic activity. The latter theory is most likely given the eruption of Thera, a volcano on the nearby island of Santorini, which had effects throughout the Mediterranean. If you'd been there to hear it, odds are it would've sounded like this!" She punctuated her word by slamming the book down onto the desk, instantly regaining most of the class's attention and prompting several sheepish looks. "Glad to see everyone's paying attention. The Minoans were eventually supplanted by the Mycenaeans around 1450 BC. They themselves collapsed towards the end of the 12th century BC, leading towards the Greek Dark Ages and laying the foundations for the city-states we all know and love." With a quick glance towards the clock, she changed subjects. "And I think that's a good place to wrap up for now. As you all know, in a few weeks we'll be taking a class field trip. I'll need ten dollars from each of you by the end of next week; otherwise you won't be able to come."

"Miss Masters?" Billy asked as he raised his hand. "What exactly does a car race have to do with some old culture that died out thousands of years ago?"

"With the Greeks? Nothing." Diana couldn't help but grin. "But by the time the field trip comes, we'll be dealing with the Romans. And seeing as there aren't any chariot races anymore, I figure the US Grand Prix will be a reasonable enough equivalent. It's either that, or we watch _Ben Hur_." The bell rang as Diana declared, "Class dismissed!" As the rest of the class began cycling out of the room, she quietly found Alexis just as Rad and Carlos were coming up to her. "I hope you three didn't find the lecture too boring."

"Oh no, we were fine." The young Hispanic chose his next words carefully. "So, on this trip, I figure with the cultural significance…"

She held up a hand. "Don't even think about it, kid. I've got enough problems just getting this off the ground, and there's no way you'll be able to sneak them along. Besides, the big guy and the others are already busy enough as it is."

"The pod itself is situated in a slightly mountainous area – the terrain's fairly rough, but easily accessible via orbital jump." Red Alert turned from the computer readout to his commander. "The major problem is that it's situated at a human military base, one of their main munitions depositories."

"In other words, a disaster waiting to happen." Optimus shook his head uneasily as he looked over the satellite feed. Next to areas populated heavily with civilians, a military base's grounds was one of the last places he wished to find a Mini-Con pod – Kirtland was harrowing enough as it was, even if it was practically on the fringe of the base's scanners. "Is there any good news?"

"Yes, thankfully. The base is currently undergoing renovations, which may help explain how we suddenly picked up the pod. We might be able to sneak Scavenger and Smokescreen onto the site. Given their alternative modes, they should have an easy time hiding in plain sight until the pod can be unearthed and the Mini-Cons retrieved."

The old bulldozer frowned. "Still doesn't leave us much opportunity. Besides, the Decepticons are going to be on this almost immediately."

"We'll need to move quickly then – agreement or no agreement, the fewer Mini-Cons in Megatron's reach, the better." The Autobot leader turned to his old friend. "Roll out."

"I still don't get Prime deciding to drop everything and chase after the Mini-Cons like this – if it were up to me, we'd stay away from that organic-infested mudball."

Grimlock crossed his arms as he regarded his fellow officer, glad that the particular hallway they were in was out of the sun and away from curious audio receptors. "Me not think Earth bad planet – pick up alternate mode out there along with rest of unit. Me wish had noticed them when there, could've avoided this mess."

Atlas gave an unimpressed grunt at the Dinobot commander's retort. "The best way to avoid it would've been to shoot Megatron out of the sky when we had a chance. The Mini-Cons decided to leave and they can stay away for all I care. We're better off without 'em."

His red visor gleamed in the sense of an arched optic ridge. "May want to rephrase that, Atlas. They Cybertronians, same as us."

"Tiny little Cybertronians who couldn't pull their own weight. Slag, some of them decided to side with Megatron – between Optimus' being stupid with that tyrant and chasing after the things, I'm starting to think…"

"What, exactly?" The two Autobots grew silent, slowly turning to find Jetfire standing nearby, the look in his optics and stiff posture speaking volumes for his mood. "Grimlock, would you leave us alone for a nano-klik?"

The Dinobot commander silently and wisely acquiesced, throwing a quick look over his shoulder for a moment.

"Atlas, I'm going to be as blunt as possible. Is your processor fried?" Despite his faceplate, anger and frustration was clear on the Autobot Vice Commander's face. "First that mess with Wheeljack, and now this!"

King Atlas stood his ground. "I said it before sir – the loss of Cadet First Class Wheeljack is regrettable, but in war there are always–"

"_Acceptable losses_." Had he a mouth, the words would have been spat out. "I remember Checkpoint's report – his body was never found. Little things like that are exactly why we have an MIA list, and why that kid's still on it. And in case you haven't noticed, so far as Optimus is concerned, there's no such thing as 'acceptable losses'."

"My point about shooting Megatron out of the sky still stands."

"With him TransWarping the orbital defense satellites into scrap metal? And let's look at what would happen if Megatron shot at Prime in Earth orbit – with the _Ark_, Optimus would be destroyed, and the Mini-Cons would be fragged, the rest of us following in less than a deca-cycle! Even if Prime managed to actually win, not only would he create a martyr, but he'd attract attention we don't need from the natives! We might be a few stellar cycles behind on their news broadcasts, but last I checked, humans would be less than eager to have two unknown starships engaging in a firefight right over their heads and might just decide to shoot both!" A finger jabbing into Atlas' chest, he added in a low voice, "And if you so much as suggest that losing Optimus, not to mention the five Autobots who went with him, would be anything even remotely resembling 'acceptable losses', you'll be sharing your thoughts with Repugnus in full. Am I clear?"

Fliers and similar rank they both were, but Jetfire had a far larger support behind him. "Crystal, sir."

"Good." He turned to depart, but only made it a few steps before stopping. "And for the record, Atlas? You weren't online during the Second War. You weren't there to lose a partner when they left. Megatron aside, the sooner the Mini-Cons come home, the better. So watch what you say, or you'll see just how many of us miss them."

King Atlas watched as Jetfire walked off. The old fool was obviously senile – there was such a thing as acceptable losses. And one megacycle, they'd understand that.

The telltale roars of an excavator rang through the air as the earth was moved from the trench where the buried object was, more and more of the metal construct becoming visible. Already some of the closer men could make out a rectangle that seemed to indicate an opening. The foreman in charge shook his head as he looked at the widening hole. "Perfect. We're going into the red on this one. Alright, let's–!"

"Hold it, Jim!" The base's commander, a middle-aged Army colonel, jogged up. "I've just gotten word in – we're to leave this alone and not disturb it!"

The foreman all but snapped his pencil. "On whose authority?"

"The president's authority!" The colonel looked more and more displeased. "The instant I reported this in, I was told to keep this site under wraps until agents arrive to examine the site!"

"What the hell kind of authority does an executive agency have over this?"

"Whoever they are, they're above my pay grade!"

It took a couple seconds, but Jim seemed to recognize what the colonel was saying. "Alright, shut 'er down!" The excavator stopped, and the foreman made a sound of aggravation, raking through his hair after removing his helmet. "Whatever this is, I hope it's worth putting us in debt."

As the assorted workers left the hole, a large green bulldozer and an orange utility truck rolled onto the site, almost unbeknownst to those present. Both of them were just as surprised as the humans were, but glad for the surprise nonetheless. They watched as the pod silently opened, just enough space cleared for its hatch, and a small orange bird-like robot fluttered out towards the gathered construction vehicles...

"The base itself is lightly defended, despite being a munitions depot." The computer model expanded as Starscream continued his briefing. "However, in the last cycle, a number of tanks have been seen approaching the base. I suspect Cyclonus' stunt may well be the reason behind the approaching artillery."

"Then a frontal assault would only cause high amounts of damage and expend energon that we don't really have." Megatron frowned. "Suggestions?"

Thrust looked upon the simulation thoughtfully. "The subtle approach may well be our best option, Lord Megatron. Three of us, aided by our Mini-Cons, can provide fire from several different directions at maximum weapons range, dividing the human forces and keeping the majority of their attention away from the base. The two remaining Decepticons can enter the compound, locate the Mini-Cons, and quickly make escape."

The tyrant gave a glance to the larger Seeker for his answer. "I was about to recommend much the same."

An arched optic ridge. "Agreement between the two of you? I'm surprised. Still, cooperation is anything but unappreciated. Starscream – you and Cyclonus shall enter the compound, while the rest of us provide cover." The massive Decepticon tyrant rose from his throne and walked to the door. "But I expect results, not excuses. Do not disappoint me."

Thrust gave Starscream a suspicious look and followed. The larger Seeker kept a neutral face as he proceeded behind them. "I've accomplished more difficult tasks."

As he watched the console monitor, his optics narrowed uneasily. The various life signs gathered around the pod had moved back. He had no way of telling how or why this was the case, but whatever the reasons, there was no way that this bode well for them.

"Longarm, report."

The black Mini-Con twitched out of nervousness, not because of the life signs moving away but because of the speaker, before setting the scanners to automatic. "The locals are backing off. I'm not sure why."

"Well frag." Another Mini-Con, a large drill in place of one of his arms, looked at the screen in disappointment. "And here I was hoping we'd have a chance at some fun."

"Fun? You aren't seriously talking about attacking them, are you?" Another Mini-Con quickly approached, orange and brown with clawed manipulators in place of hands opening and closing that indicated his unease at that thought. "The humans are innocents here. If we have to fight our way out fine, but no way am I willing to attack them outright."

"Refute is correct, Drill Bit." The orange drilling vehicle looked disappointed as his commander stepped forward, the two yellow barrels upon his back suggesting a tank alternate mode. "Our brethren are most likely scattered across this planet. For now, we need to avoid confrontation – that means keeping a low profile." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "Buzzsaw, how long do you think it will take to dig our way out?"

The last member of the Destruction Team surveyed the pod's hatch and the amount of earth blocking it. "Judging by the soil composition, I'd say ten kliks at most. The real question is what do we do once we're out?"

"They've got a point." The last of the six, orange and black and with components suggesting a forklift for an alternate mode. "I mean, our pod got a signal from another one – that means that we aren't the first to come online. Odds are the Autobots and Decepticons are already looking for us, and we've got no way of knowing if Megatron's still active." Liftor looked to Dualor. "I say we try to find the other Mini-Cons and try to get in touch with Cybertron."

"And seek rescue?" The Destruction Team's leader turned to the younger Mini-Con. "You said so yourself – we have no way of knowing if Megatron is still active. And even if he isn't, I see little reason to seek out Optimus Prime. He and Sparkplug are as much to blame for us being on this Allspark-forsaken world than anyone."

Longarm glared at the tank, irritated by his lack of sense. "And somehow they're responsible for that tyrant's actions? Or our ship malfunctioning?"

"No, but it was Sparkplug who suggested we leave Cybertron in the first place, and Prime did little to discourage him. What we need is a change in leadership, and a different approach to our current problem." Noticing the unease in the optics of those not under his command, as well as Buzzsaw, he backed off. "Still, a change in leadership can wait. For now, we free ourselves and escape – Buzzsaw, Drill Bit, Refute, get to work widening–"

Dualor was interrupted as the familiar roar of explosions shook the pod, catching their attention.

"Sounds like those precious fleshlings might just be planning on blowing us up." Drill Bit barely disguised his glee at the prospect of a fight, his drill arm spinning eagerly.

"No, those were too far away to be hitting us." Refute moved towards the opened hatch after transforming, intent on finding out himself. "Whatever it is, the sooner we get out of here, the better!"

Outside, the human construction workers immediately scrambled for safety as artillery fire rained down upon the base, destroying vehicles left and right as well sending dirt and rocks raining all over them. The few military officers present quickly directed the workers to head for safety in an orderly manner as they attempted to figure out what was going on and wished they had more on hand than just plain munitions. As the last of the gathered humans departed, Starscream and Cyclonus arrived near the makeshift hole and landed.

"Looks like your plan's working, Starscream." The helicopter gave a chuckle as he watched the humans flee. "Not bad."

"Congratulate me once we're out of danger. The escape pod's there, almost unearthed. Send Crumplezone in, and quickly."

The Mini-Con connected to Cyclonus's arm jettisoned from his partner, sliding down into the makeshift hole. "They're online!"

The berserker gave a gleeful laugh. "Nice and easy!"

A large tow cable soon found itself wrapped around Cyclonus' head, latching hard and pulling him to the ground. Starscream turned to find Smokescreen holding the cable, Scavenger beside him with his own partner linked up at his waist. "Did you honestly think you were the only ones invited to this party?"

"Actually, no." His blade deployed and a small smirk on his face, the Seeker stood ready to fight back. "In fact, I was looking forward to this."

"What do you mean they're right outside?"

"I mean they're literally right outside!" Crumplezone shook his head – he just had to find the pod with Refute in it. "Listen, you guys have to get out of here, now!"

"We aren't going anywhere with the Decepticons." Refute transformed and backed off, Longarm and Liftor standing with him. "Starscream can only keep up an act for so long. We'll go with the Autobots, thanks."

"The Autobots may not be able to do much good." The Mini-Con tank's optics were pleading with them. "We have to go and we have to go now!"

"We aren't leaving," Refute repeated.

"But the–!"

"Crumplezone, take Buzzsaw and get out of here." Optics turned, surprised that Dualor had spoken up. "If we aren't with you in a klik, then beat it."

The excavator Mini-Con looked at his commander in surprise and then acquiesced, climbing up the widened opening with the help of Crumplezone. He only stopped for a moment to look back before disappearing out the opening.

Shock still in his optics, Refute whirled at the Destruction Team leader angrily. "Dualor, what are you thinking? You just said so yourself – Megatron and his Decepticons are the enemy!"

"You don't get it, do you Refute?" The tank's optic bar flashed dangerously. "It's about survival. Not ideals, not who's better than who, but who lives to see another stellar cycle. And I plan on making sure the Mini-Cons survive this war." His twin cannons flipped down underneath his arms and fired. "Whatever it takes."

Refute fell at the first shot, while Liftor and Longarm were both knocked back by the second salvo. As the three fell to the floor Dualor beckoned, "Drill Bit, clean up."

"Got it boss." The orange Mini-Con chuckled with manic glee as he started up his drill towards Refute.

As Dualor climbed out of the escape pod, he could hear the grinding and tearing of metal, mingling with screams of terror but didn't stop. He looked up to find Crumplezone and Buzzsaw waiting for him, the latter with an arm stretched out to help him out of the hole.

"Where are the others?"

"Drill Bit's tying up a loose end or two." Dualor casually replied as a form zipped past them, heading back into the tunnel.

"You've been hanging around that slagging medic for too long, Longarm." Drill Bit kicked the badly injured Mini-Con off his drill. "Gotten soft on us."

Longarm had jumped in at the last moment, shoving Refute aside mere nanoseconds before Drill Bit's weapon could make contact. He had paid a high price, however – his left arm was barely hanging from his shoulder and a good chunk of his torso had been torn out.

"It's every 'bot for themselves in this world." The orange Mini-Con had a manic look in his optics. "Should have realized that by now."

A pair of strong hands took hold of Drill Bit's left arm. "Sorry – I don't quite see it that way." The last member of the Destruction Team soon found himself being sent out of the tiny tunnel with a body throw by Rollbar. "Slag spouting maniac." The Mini-Con dune buggy turned his attention to the injured Longarm. "Hey doc. How you holding up?"

Sparks shot from his chest as the black crane wheezed. "Barely."

As Liftor and Refute got to their feet, Rollbar gently took the wounded Mini-Con into his arms. "Please tell me you didn't come here with the Decepticons."

A derisive laugh at the forklift's worried query. "Like they'd ever get me. Nah, Prime managed to get to us shortly after we woke up. Red's with him – he can patch Longarm up easy, but we gotta move right now if we're gonna do any good."

Had he a mouth, Refute would have smiled. "Lead the way, old friend."

"What happened?" Dualor asked as Drill Bit got to his feet.

The Mini-Con growled, shaking his head to clear away the dirt that had gotten onto his face. "Rollbar happened."

Meanwhile, Starscream continued to hold Scavenger at bay as Cyclonus grappled with Smokescreen. "Forget the Autobot, Cyclonus! Get the Mini-Cons and go, now!"

Smokescreen looked down to see Crumplezone and the Destruction Team appear in plain view. "Oh no, you-!"

Cyclonus took the opportunity to shove the distracted Autobot to the ground and switch to his helicopter mode. "Link up, scrap bits!"

Crumplezone shifted around a bit, assuming his form as Cyclonus's secondary cockpit as Dualor, Drill Bit and Buzzsaw locked in on three of Cyclonus's four primary Powerlinx points.

"So much for Autobot fighting abilities!" With a cackle, the berserker quickly flew away from the other Transformers. "Seeya, losers!"

Smokescreen growled as he got to his feet, his thoughts interrupted as Starscream quietly chided, "Make sure the other Mini-Cons are safe. I'll keep an eye on those three."

"We'll hold you to that," Scavenger grumbled as Starscream broke off and flew away from the base.

"Scavenger, Smokes, we've got wounded!" Rollbar yelled as he half-carried Longarm out of the tunnel, Refute and Liftor limping after him. "We need to get out of here, now!"

The old bulldozer knelt and offered a large hand. "Give him to me – here's hoping he's stable enough for an orbital bounce." His Mini-Con partner laid the wounded crane in his partner's hand and stood back as Scavenger rose to his full height. "Scavenger to _Ark_, we've got wounded! Requesting immediate extraction, now!"

_:"Understood,":_ Red Alert's voice answered through the comm.-channel. One beam of light from above later, and the six Cybertronians vanished into the twilight.

"Three Mini-Cons… out of six." Thrust and Starscream standing before him, the Decepticon leader tapped on the armrest of his throne. "Light damage to our troops and minimal resistance from the Autobots during the attack, but only half of the Mini-Cons recovered from the pod."

"Perhaps the next mission, Starscream should…"

A raised hand silenced the tactician. "The problem is not the Mini-Cons we failed to retrieve, but the ones we succeeded in retrieving. The Destruction Team is dangerous, powerful, and a potential threat to our operations." Megatron studied the larger of the two Seekers. While he would've preferred Thrust, he supposed that this could be a form of punishment for the red-and-white jet's earlier actions of leaving by himself. "Starscream, you shall keep an optic on them to make certain that whatever they may plot does not succeed. Do I make myself clear?"

"Completely, Lord Megatron."

"Good. Dismissed."

The two Seekers silently exited at that. As the hatch to the _Nemesis_' command deck slid shut behind them, Thrust gave a side-glance. "It seems you've stumbled, Starscream. I wonder if you've accomplished more difficult tasks than this."

"No." The smaller Seeker's expression turned smug until the larger one amended, "But there's a first time for everything."

In the _Ark_'s medical bay, Red Alert worked diligently on the heavily-damaged Longarm, numerous status displays and medical screens dotting the wall around him. Watching from an observation room in somber silence was Refute, watching his ally with increasing worry in his optics. They had all been through many things prior their self-imposed exile, but never before did he felt this anxious.

The nearby door slid open, a familiar voice drifting in. "I heard about what happened with Dualor and Drill Bit." As the excavator turned to face him, Sparkplug placed a supporting hand on the orange Mini-Con's shoulder. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. I know that doesn't help much, but…"

"Nah, don't apologize – you aren't responsible for this." Refute turned back to face his injured comrade being cared for by his bulk partner. "Drill Bit tore him up on Dualor's orders. He was going to do it to me, but…" He vented, although whether it was anger or fear, the Lamborghini didn't know. "Why the slag did he go and do that? I've got thicker armor, I could've taken the damage better then he did. Now he's barely holding on, not even stable enough for a CR chamber, and…"

"He did that because he and Red both value life. I don't know if Dualor's ever had enough in him to do that." The Mini-Con leader stepped up to the window. "He's in the best of hands – Red's put back together more 'bots than I could ever hope to keep track of. Longarm will pull through just fine."

"I hope so." Refute settled against the glass to his back and crossed his arms, trying to relax but not quite concealing his frustration. "I hope you aren't blaming yourself over this."

"Us being on this planet? A little. What happened to Longarm? Not so much." A small smile crossed his face. "I don't want you kicking my aft for even thinking this is my fault."

A small chuckle. "And I would, too." The orange Mini-Con huffed, whatever brevity he had fading. "Whatever happens, Drill Bit and Dualor will pay for this. And whatever that glitch-headed toaster's got planned, it'll never work. I just hope I'm there to watch."

Sparkplug could easily detect the anger in his comrade's voice. It was more than justified – Longarm was his friend as well, and the idea of one Mini-Con purposely injuring another, or worse, killing them, was disgusting. Still, he didn't think it was worth it. "Try not to think about it, Refute. We've still got a long way to go."

The End


End file.
